After months of hypes and vibes, the 19th edition of the World Cup finally opened in Johannesburg last Friday with typical African pomp, pageantry and beehive blaring of the vuvuzelas. I was moved by Jacob Zuma's opening speech: 'We as a country are humbled by this honour to host one of the biggest tournaments of the world. Africa is indeed happy. This is the African World Cup. I declare the 2010 FIFA World Cup open'. Such brevity, such humility. No political statement, no personal grandstanding. A minimalist and measured performance, by a leader better known for his shady past and many wives. How I wish our own leaders take a leaf out of this PR playbook, and apply the same restraint in their public proclamations. No puffed up numbers, no developed nation crap, no bankruptcy threat.
My first brush with the World Cup was way back in 1959. Man that's half a century ago. I was in standard one. I stumbled upon a grainy footage in Utusan Melayu, a Jawi newspaper, the only Malay language daily at the time (?). I could read and write perfect Jawi even before that year (I struggle now, of course. I blame my eyesight instead of hating myself). Anyway, it's a French player, probably the legendary Just Fontaine, executing a bicycle kick. I must've been peering at a 1958 newspaper, because the World Cup was held that year in Switzerland. My football exposure at that time was limited to Kelantan Third Division league, in which our local team played. That's the lowest tier, and our team never got promoted, but we never got relegated either. Half the team were full-time teachers, and their own students had a dandy time heckling them for miskicks and own goals. Win or lose, all home matches were sell-outs hours before kick-offs. It's no Nou Camp or San Siro, but it's a sell-out all the same.
England won the World Cup in 1966, my first year at secondary school. That's a pivotal year for my football fall-in. It sparked off my football interest, and it grew as classmates Hamid, Ibrahim, Yuzer, Bain were tossing around names like Pele, George Best, Bobby Moore, Bobby Charlton and Gordon Banks. I doubt they'd actually seen them in action. The main news feed was the Straits Times and the football mags: Shoot, Goal etc. Yes we all could read and write a fair amount of English. But until today I still can't figure out how was it possible for us to pick and choose our favourite teams and players just from the still photos, staid match wrap-ups and gossip columns. It made sense if we all picked smooth strikers like George Best as locker pin-ups. But some of us inexplicably plumped for defenders; my dorm-mate fell for the dentist-driven Nobby Stiles.
You could say that I was late catching the World Cup bug, but when the 1970 edition kicked off in Mexico, I could name all the England and Brazil players, their positions, back-up player for each position and players' smoking habits. Banks, Moore, Charlton, Lee, Mullery, Peters, Pele, Tostao, Rivelino, Gerson, C Alberto, Jairzinho, to name a few. My maths and physics, already bad to begin with, turned for the worse. Those days recorded or delayed telecasts were unheard of, let alone live ones. We'd to rely on unreliable RTM news for scores and the papers for match reports. Anyway, Brazil beat England and later Italy to win the World Cup for the third time. This team is still considered the best football team ever. I'd little to argue with that. A few months later FIFA released 'The World at Their Feet', a movie chronicling the 1970 World Cup, with relatively lavish clips of crunch matches. I watched the movie at Lido theatre in Ipoh three times.
The 1974 World Cup was a milestone of sorts. For the first time the World Cup was telecast live in Malaysia. It's in black and white, but who cared. I'm not sure now how many games were shown, but I managed to watch only the final (TV was quite a rarity at the time). The Cruyff-inspired Dutch team delighted the world with its brand of 'total football', where players switched positions at will to confuse the opponents. They stormed to a final showdown with the then West Germany. About everyone outside West Germany wanted the Dutch to win. But the West Germans somehow wised up to the Dutch tricks, and took the World Cup.
From 1978 onwards, live telecasts of the World Cup, at least for the big games, were routine and in colour. Now of course it's in high definition. Next will be colour, HD and 3D. But colour or not, every World Cup is special, spectacular and always colourful. It's rich with prodigious talents, ground-breakers and one-time wonders. Pele, Hurst, Muller, Cruyff, Zoff, Platini, Figo, Zico, Zidane, the list rolls on. But for me the greatest of them all is Diego Maradona. When he's not drunk or doped, Maradona was a miracle and God's gift. He single-handedly (pun intended) won the World Cup for Argentina in 1986. For sheer artistry, no players before and after him came close. His vision, skills and trickery with the ball were simply, well, scary. He declared recently that the current Barcelona hotshot Lionel Messi was better; it's his way of motivating the pretender. No way.
The ongoing World Cup in South Africa is yet another milestone. I'm watching it with the free, flowing and flexible mind of a retiree. England vs USA live at 2.30 am? Argentina vs N Korea repeat at 7.00 am? I'm game. It's up to me now. I can now watch with open eyes and mind. No bosses to please, no projects to finish. Only real, total football.
Expect some shockers and controversies. Italy won the World Cup in 1982 without a single Italian expecting them to make the semis. Brazil were firm favourites in every World Cup, but won it only five times. Italy dumped by South Korea. Beckham banished. The headbutt of hate. The hand of God. And that iconic waltz past five English defenders for goal of the century. The list is long. Spain and Brazil are early front runners for 2010. But who knows? Most Malaysians, including me, are England fans at heart, but expect other teams to win. Germany is again the team to hate. My pick for champions? Argentina. The team is bursting with talent. And, in case you forget, the coach is a certain Diego Armando Maradona !
My first brush with the World Cup was way back in 1959. Man that's half a century ago. I was in standard one. I stumbled upon a grainy footage in Utusan Melayu, a Jawi newspaper, the only Malay language daily at the time (?). I could read and write perfect Jawi even before that year (I struggle now, of course. I blame my eyesight instead of hating myself). Anyway, it's a French player, probably the legendary Just Fontaine, executing a bicycle kick. I must've been peering at a 1958 newspaper, because the World Cup was held that year in Switzerland. My football exposure at that time was limited to Kelantan Third Division league, in which our local team played. That's the lowest tier, and our team never got promoted, but we never got relegated either. Half the team were full-time teachers, and their own students had a dandy time heckling them for miskicks and own goals. Win or lose, all home matches were sell-outs hours before kick-offs. It's no Nou Camp or San Siro, but it's a sell-out all the same.
England won the World Cup in 1966, my first year at secondary school. That's a pivotal year for my football fall-in. It sparked off my football interest, and it grew as classmates Hamid, Ibrahim, Yuzer, Bain were tossing around names like Pele, George Best, Bobby Moore, Bobby Charlton and Gordon Banks. I doubt they'd actually seen them in action. The main news feed was the Straits Times and the football mags: Shoot, Goal etc. Yes we all could read and write a fair amount of English. But until today I still can't figure out how was it possible for us to pick and choose our favourite teams and players just from the still photos, staid match wrap-ups and gossip columns. It made sense if we all picked smooth strikers like George Best as locker pin-ups. But some of us inexplicably plumped for defenders; my dorm-mate fell for the dentist-driven Nobby Stiles.
You could say that I was late catching the World Cup bug, but when the 1970 edition kicked off in Mexico, I could name all the England and Brazil players, their positions, back-up player for each position and players' smoking habits. Banks, Moore, Charlton, Lee, Mullery, Peters, Pele, Tostao, Rivelino, Gerson, C Alberto, Jairzinho, to name a few. My maths and physics, already bad to begin with, turned for the worse. Those days recorded or delayed telecasts were unheard of, let alone live ones. We'd to rely on unreliable RTM news for scores and the papers for match reports. Anyway, Brazil beat England and later Italy to win the World Cup for the third time. This team is still considered the best football team ever. I'd little to argue with that. A few months later FIFA released 'The World at Their Feet', a movie chronicling the 1970 World Cup, with relatively lavish clips of crunch matches. I watched the movie at Lido theatre in Ipoh three times.
The 1974 World Cup was a milestone of sorts. For the first time the World Cup was telecast live in Malaysia. It's in black and white, but who cared. I'm not sure now how many games were shown, but I managed to watch only the final (TV was quite a rarity at the time). The Cruyff-inspired Dutch team delighted the world with its brand of 'total football', where players switched positions at will to confuse the opponents. They stormed to a final showdown with the then West Germany. About everyone outside West Germany wanted the Dutch to win. But the West Germans somehow wised up to the Dutch tricks, and took the World Cup.
From 1978 onwards, live telecasts of the World Cup, at least for the big games, were routine and in colour. Now of course it's in high definition. Next will be colour, HD and 3D. But colour or not, every World Cup is special, spectacular and always colourful. It's rich with prodigious talents, ground-breakers and one-time wonders. Pele, Hurst, Muller, Cruyff, Zoff, Platini, Figo, Zico, Zidane, the list rolls on. But for me the greatest of them all is Diego Maradona. When he's not drunk or doped, Maradona was a miracle and God's gift. He single-handedly (pun intended) won the World Cup for Argentina in 1986. For sheer artistry, no players before and after him came close. His vision, skills and trickery with the ball were simply, well, scary. He declared recently that the current Barcelona hotshot Lionel Messi was better; it's his way of motivating the pretender. No way.
The ongoing World Cup in South Africa is yet another milestone. I'm watching it with the free, flowing and flexible mind of a retiree. England vs USA live at 2.30 am? Argentina vs N Korea repeat at 7.00 am? I'm game. It's up to me now. I can now watch with open eyes and mind. No bosses to please, no projects to finish. Only real, total football.
Expect some shockers and controversies. Italy won the World Cup in 1982 without a single Italian expecting them to make the semis. Brazil were firm favourites in every World Cup, but won it only five times. Italy dumped by South Korea. Beckham banished. The headbutt of hate. The hand of God. And that iconic waltz past five English defenders for goal of the century. The list is long. Spain and Brazil are early front runners for 2010. But who knows? Most Malaysians, including me, are England fans at heart, but expect other teams to win. Germany is again the team to hate. My pick for champions? Argentina. The team is bursting with talent. And, in case you forget, the coach is a certain Diego Armando Maradona !
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